Everlasting
by Grigori Feather
Summary: She slowly walked through the corridors, thinking to herself how much she would miss the place. Here was where she had learned to become a meister, here was where she had grown up, grown into a strong young woman, here was where she had met her closest friends and created her fondest memories. Of course, here was also where she had met Soul. My contribution to SoMa Week Day 1.


The soft ruffles of her burgundy dress rippled fluidly around her ankles as she stepped out of the crowded room. Maka definitely appreciated a good party with friends, but the swirl of excited, happy voices mixing together with the repetitive music was beginning to get to her head. She needed some quiet. As she pressed the great wooden door shut, with some effort, the overwhelming silence of the great hall became apparent. She sighed, a heavy, tainted sigh as a feeling of bittersweet nostalgia washed over her.

This was very likely the last time she would wander the halls of Shibusen as a student.

She stepped gingerly over the threshold from the doorway, and into the hall, her heels clicking loudly against the marble floor, causing echoes to reverberate through the empty space. She allowed her green, wistful eyes to gaze fondly around as she slowly walked through the corridors, thinking to herself how much she would miss the place. Here was where she had learned to become a meister, here was where she had grown up, grown into a strong young woman, here was where she had met her closest friends and created her fondest memories.

Of course, here was also where she had met Soul.

She fidgeted nervously and found herself fiddling with her long blonde tresses as she thought about him. Soul: her weapon partner, her best friend, her closest confidante, and now, her lover. If she had never enrolled in this school, she would never have found him. Her mind reeled just thinking about how different her life would be without him.

Suddenly, she stopped walking. If her mental map of the school served her correctly, the door directly to her left was the door to the room in which it all began. A nervous smile betrayed her lips as she strode over to the door; very softly, she turned the handle and lightly pushed the door open. The wide, simple room that lay before her only contained an expansive window, some coat hangers, and a magnificent grand piano, yet it washed a flood of memories over her within seconds.

~x~

She was suddenly just shy of eleven years old, boldly setting foot into the unknown room full of strange young students, eagerly pinning a badge emblazoned with the word "MEISTER" upon it, to her chest. Despite her naïve, youthful state, she was determined to become the greatest meister this school had ever seen, and create a Death Scythe more powerful than her father. The only thing standing in her way was the fact that she had no weapon. She would find the perfect one tonight; she could feel it in her bones.

It soon became apparent, however, that not many weapons wanted to partner up with a bookish, plain young girl with such wide-eyed dreams. Most of the new weapons were older than her, and would casually laugh and make an excuse to leave when they heard her story. Maka became discouraged, but kept her optimistic attitude up, always a smile on her face. The evening wore on, and she could see out the window that it was getting dark. Her peers were beginning to pair off and leave, and there were fewer and fewer people in the room; she tried not to panic, tried to remain enthusiastic. She trembled at the though of not finding a weapon. She certainly would not become a better meister than her mother if she couldn't even find a weapon!

"Hey," a casual, cool, distinctly male voice floated into her ears from behind her. She spun around, and her forest green eyes met pupils of bright crimson, hidden behind snowy white locks. The boy wore a lazy smirk on his face, and he was also slouching. Maka wrinkled her nose a bit at him, but smiled and introduced herself enthusiastically. At this point, she would take anything she could get.

"Hello! My name is Maka Albarn, and I'm a meister!" She stuck out her hand, noticing that his nametag said "WEAPON" on it. He shook it casually, his rough, tan hands contrasting sharply against her soft ivory skin.

"I'm Soul Eater," he replied nonchalantly. His voice sounded bored, yet he was eyeing her curiously, as if extremely intrigued by her mere presence. "What sort of weapon are you looking for, Maka?"

"My papa is the current Death Scythe," Maka began, blushing just a tiny bit at the warm touch of his hands and the feeling of his eyes on her. She wasn't used to attention from boys, and she thought Soul was quite cute. "My mama made him. I wanna become a great scythe meister like her, and create a Death Scythe even more powerful than him!"

At this, a wide grin broke across Soul's face, revealing his sharp, pointy teeth. Maka gasped just a bit, but stood her ground. "That's excellent, because I just so happen to be a demon scythe, and I am gonna be the coolest Death Scythe ever," he smirked. Maka smiled excitedly, unable to contain her happiness. This boy may be a strange one, but he had the attitude she was looking for. He seemed eager to help her achieve her goal.

"Great! Do you wanna team up, then?" the flaxen haired young meister inquired. His eyes wandered to some spot behind her as she asked him, and his toothy, mischievous grin faded from his face.

"Wait a sec. There's something I wanna do first," he announced, eyes still fixed upon the spot. As he took a step forward, he grabbed her skinny wrist and pulled her with him. Maka was confused, but she did not protest; it did not take long to figure out where he was leading her.

The grand piano. Before she had a chance to ask why he was leading her there, he had already seated himself at the magnificent instrument, and had skillfully placed his long fingers upon the keys, poised above them, ready to strike. He paused.

"This is the kind of guy I am, Maka."

Funny, she wouldn't have pegged him as a musician. In her mind, musicians were always classy, elegant, with a constant air of snobby arrogance. This boy was none of those things; in fact, he was actually quite the opposite of all of those things.

And yet, when his fingers struck the ivory keys, moving faster than Maka had ever seen anyone's fingers move before, she quickly forgot all of those thoughts; it took her a moment to realize that this boy she had just met was playing a song on the piano for her. Now, Maka Albarn was an intelligent girl, capable of comprehending mathematics and science at levels far more advanced than a typical eleven year old, easily able to read through a 500 page novel in the span of a few hours, and she could defeat the rest of her classmates in a spelling bee with little effort. It was safe to say there were few things in life she had trouble understanding, but music was definitely one of them. The whole concept of stringing notes together to create a whole bunch of notes, and somehow make them relatively pleasant sounding in the process, just didn't make sense to her. She blamed it on her inherent left-brained-ness.

But the sound of the notes emanating from the keys he was effortlessly gliding his deft fingers across produced a dark, haunting, beautiful melody the likes of which Maka had never before heard. For the first time in her young life, she was mystified, enchanted, sucked into a piece of music despite her limited ability to understand how it worked. It didn't matter if she couldn't comprehend how he was producing the alluring music, because she was actually able to enjoy it, to let herself get lost in it. It made her feel sad, it made her feel scared, it made her feel complete in a way she couldn't explain. She watched him, bent incessantly over the keys, shoulders hunched, fingers flying, concentrating only on the song he was playing and how passionately he played.

And then he stopped suddenly, after one final, angry, concluding note. His fingers lingered on the keys for several moments, and Maka watched his chest heave up and down, still dazed from the music. Soul turned around slowly, his face looking nervous and uncertain as he turned to meet her gaze. She stared, dumbfounded, at him for many long seconds, and Soul sighed heavily, discouraged.

"Whatever. It was nice meeting you, I guess," he muttered glumly as he stood up from the piano bench. It was only once the mysterious white haired boy began to walk away that Maka finally snapped out of her music-induced trance.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Maka squeaked as she lunged forward, reaching for his arm. His brows furrowed in confusion as she did so.

"Huh? What do you mean? Didn't my music freak you out?" he asked her quizzically. Maka giggled.

"What? No, of course not!" Maka told him enthusiastically.

"You mean… you didn't think my playing was… awful?" Soul asked, flabbergasted.

"No! I loved it! I mean, I don't know much about music… but that, that was the most beautiful song I've ever heard!" Maka smiled earnestly. "It made me feel sad and it was really dark, and kinda scary… but… I liked it. Really, I did!"

At this, the most innocent, heartwarming smile broke Soul's hardened, serious face, a simple gesture of genuine happiness that made Maka's heart skip quite a few beats.

"Well, what are we waiting for then? Let's partner up already," Soul mused nonchalantly, his casual, aloof demeanor returning as quickly as it had left.

Maka thought to herself that this might very well be the best decision she would ever make.

~x~

"I thought I might find you in here."

The sound of his deep, husky voice pulled her abruptly out of the fond, rosy memory. She turned slightly to face him as she was brought back to reality. Present day Soul stood much taller, slouched considerably less, and was somehow even more attractive, than the young boy Soul she had just spoken with.

"I needed some quiet. A trip down memory lane seemed necessary."

Her weapon grinned, an amused, toothy smirk, which Maka had grown to love dearly.

"This is where it all began isn't it? How appropriate to come visit this room on our graduation night," he said wistfully as he crossed the room, erasing the space between them. Maka smiled as his hands ghosted slowly up the sides of her bare arms, coming to a stop at her shoulders. Soul pulled her closer to him and pressed his lips to the base of her neck. She shivered at the tender touch.

"Soul… here is where we met. Here is where you played for me the first time…" she whispered, feeling him chuckle softly as she said it.

"I actually thought I had scared you away. Yet somehow you actually liked that stupid song I played," he smirked.

"It wasn't stupid," Maka protested as he moved away, striding towards the grand piano that sat serenely, majestically in the otherwise plain room, just as it did so many years ago. He ran his hands over the smooth, shiny black wood, finished with the finest gloss Death City had to offer. He could see himself in the reflection.

"You only say that because you have no idea what good music is," he teased her, at which Maka merely rolled her eyes. She had followed him over to the piano and was now resting her head against his shoulder.

"Look how far we've come," she breathed blissfully, staring into the reflection of herself and Soul. She noticed that he was smiling.

"Regardless of how stupid that song may have been," Soul spoke slowly, as if selecting his every word carefully, "I'm so glad that I played it. Whatever it was that possessed me to play for you that day, I'm thankful for it, because it brought us together. You changed my life, Maka."

He reached for her tiny, pale hand, pressing it firmly into his palm. Very gently, he guided her hand to the keys, closing his eyes in anticipation as her outstretched finger selected the nearest one.

"G," he grinned happily as the familiar note rang in his ears. "Maka's Melody." She smiled, fully anticipating him sitting down to play it for her.

"Maka, why don't you sit down?" he suggested gently, a nervous smile playing on his lips. She complied, sitting gingerly upon the piano bench, a bit confused.

And then, before she even knew what was happening, Soul Eater Evans was down on one knee before her, pulling a small box of black velvet out of his pocket, the expression on his face one unlike any other she had seen before. He cracked the box open and she gasped, her hand flying stupidly up to her face, covering her gaping mouth.

"Maka Albarn. You are my muse, my inspiration, and my reason for living. I would be nothing without you. The least I can do to repay you for all you've given me is love you, as your faithful husband, for the rest of our lives. I promise to keep protecting you, cherishing you, and putting up with your insanely painful Maka-chops for the rest of my life, if only you'll have me. You are the one thing that makes my life complete. Please… marry me?" his voice cracked slightly at the end, the look in his crimson eyes pleading. Tears streamed down Maka's fair-skinned cheeks, her deep green eyes wide with shock. She felt so stupid; she was sobbing so hard that all she could manage was a feeble nod. It was enough for Soul, for he removed the delicate silver ring from its velvet-lined case and slowly slipped it onto her trembling finger. He held her small hand in his for several moments, grinning triumphantly, when suddenly, she threw her arms around him, nearly knocking him off balance.

"Soul… I just… I'm so happy…" she began, but he stopped her mid-sentence.

"You don't have to say anything. Come on, I must play a song for my bride-to-be," he took both of her hands in his and helped her up, sitting down on the piano bench as he did so. Maka slid in next to him effortlessly, still sniffling, recovering from the shock of it all.

"Maka's Melody. With a newly revised ending, composed by yours truly," he whispered into her ear as he poised his long fingers over the keys for the first time in seven years. Maka rested her head against him as he began to play the familiar tune, the song that had guided them through so much adversary, helped them recover from the black-blooded curse of insanity, and kept them going strong through the many years. As she stared at the elegant ring of silver and diamond, which now sat perfectly upon her finger, Maka thought it was the most beautiful sound in the entire world.

She decided that she disagreed with her young self. Marrying Soul was, without a doubt, the best decision she would ever make.


End file.
